Scars Burn the Soul
by MyImmortal329
Summary: After the devastating events at the Grady Memorial prisoner exchange, the group moves on, and Carol and Daryl must find a way to keep themselves and each other from pulling away and losing themselves. Along the way, they find that sometimes losing yourself is the only way to completely find your way back again. Warning: This story contains flashbacks of violent abuse.
1. Chapter 1 - Crumble

Disclaimer: I don't own anything or any character from The Walking Dead. Every character and storyline from The Walking Dead belongs to the amazing creators of the comic series and television show.

Scars Burn the Soul

Summary: After the devastating events at the Grady Memorial prisoner exchange, the group moves on, and Carol and Daryl must find a way to keep themselves and each other from pulling away and losing themselves. Along the way, they find that sometimes losing yourself is the only way to completely find your way back again.

Author's Note: Daryl might be a slight bit different in this story. This takes place after the events of Coda, so keep in mind that Carol and Daryl have already been through hell and back together. While I enjoy building relationships with slow burn, I think we've all been burning long enough for our Caryl, am I right? Just don't be surprised if things get serious really fast. Just saying. ;)

Chapter 1: Crumble

_Warning: This chapter contains descriptions of painful abuse upon a young child through flashbacks. _

The walls of Grady Memorial might as well have crumbled behind them as they left it behind without looking back. Carol felt her knees trembling and her head spinning as she walked. She felt a hand on her waist, and she felt that hand move as the arm circled around her. She felt him bend down, catching her arm around his neck. His eyes looked everywhere but at her, and she grabbed the fabric of his vest between her fingers, clutching him, praying she wouldn't fall.

His head bent down, and she choked back a sob when his grip tightened on her. He wasn't just carrying her. He was trying to hold himself up.

"Stop," she whispered, tears clinging to her eyelashes. He stopped, and she turned to stand in front of him as the group walked ahead without turning back. Tyreese, the biggest and physically strongest of the group had taken over carrying Beth toward what would be her final resting place.

"You hurt?"

"I'm not worried about me." She put her hand on his chest, and he looked up at her, his eyes finally meeting hers. The tears slipped down her cheeks. He started to turn, but she gripped his vest. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't pull away. Don't do this. You did it when Sophia died. You're doing it again. Please. Just don't." He felt the heat rising in his face, he felt his eyes burning. He wanted to turn and walk away, but somehow, seeing the grief in her eyes made it easier. He bowed his head for a moment, and she moved her hand to his cheek. He placed his hand against hers, curling her fingers in his. "We get to move on, remember?"

He took a shuddering breath, moving her hand away only to press a kiss to her palm, sending a jolt right through her. She bit her trembling lip, and he pulled her against him, holding her, feeling her trembling in his arms, and she stroked his hair, hearing a sob escape. Exhausted and wrecked, they broke apart, and she took his hand in hers. They turned back toward the rest of the group, who had stopped a few yards up to give them their space. They looked around everywhere but at the two broken souls that clung to each other out of desperation, out of need.

_Carol wiped the fog off of the bathroom mirror, wincing when she saw the swelling already starting on her right eye. A bruise was already beginning to form, and she made a mental note to try and cover it with some makeup before Sophia got home from school._

_She stood in front of the mirror, gazing at the sight of her bare breasts, and she traced her finger along a tiny, pink mark, something she'd almost forgotten about. It was a burn mark from a cigarette, one of the first of many that Ed had inflicted upon her over the last few years. The rest of the marks were either from cigarettes or matches, she couldn't remember each of those, but she remembered that one. It had been her first burn, and she could remember it like it happened yesterday._

_She looked at herself in the mirror, wondering who the hell this broken shell of a woman was, wondering how she'd let it get this bad. She'd taken Sophia to the shelter just two days ago, and then she'd caved and gone running back to that son of a bitch last night. And he'd really let her have it._

_She traced her fingers over the three scratches on her shoulder where he'd clawed at her shirt, ripping it open before he forced himself on her after beating her half-unconscious on the kitchen floor. _

_"Mama?" The voice echoed through the house when the front door flew open. "I'm home!" Carol sniffled and wiped her eyes, quickly pulling her bathrobe on and tying it firmly around herself. She scrambled, trying to find something, anything to cover her swelling eye with, but it was too late. The soft knock came to the door, and Sophia poked her head around, her bright eyes widening at the sight of her mother fighting back tears. "Mama…what's wrong?"_

_"Nothing, sweetheart. I'm fine," Carol assured her, bringing her arms around her daughter in a big hug, wincing a little when her daughter hugged back tightly. When they pulled away, Sophia gave her mother an 'I know he hit you' look but said nothing. "Go on and get started on your homework. I'll get supper started, alright? Your father will be home soon."_

_"Sure," the girl said softly, almost in a whisper. She'd made whispering an art. Sophia Peletier knew when to make herself scarce, and that was ninety percent of the time her father was home. _

_"That's my girl," Carol said softly, giving her daughter one more squeeze before sending her off to her room. When Sophia was down the hall and her door was closed, Carol closed the bathroom door, leaned back against it and slid down to the floor, pulling her arms around her knees and bringing them up to her chest. She fought hard against the sting of tears in her eyes, but it wasn't long before she was biting sobs into the sides of her wrists, trying to keep the noise down to a minimum._

The next few days were a blur. After burying Beth in a meadow outside of the city, the group had abandoned the fire truck and piled into the truck they'd brought to Atlanta. Carol was given the passenger's seat since she was still in a bit of pain, and Daryl had taken over driving. At this point, they had no direction, and in the back of the truck, there were currently arguments and debates over where they should go, or even if they should go.

"We should just leave Georgia," Daryl murmured, brushing his fingers through his hair as he drove down the littered old highway.

"We could," Carol said quietly, "but we'd have the same problems out there. At least we know this area." She saw Daryl shrug.

"Don't matter," he replied. "How do we know them cops at the hospital ain't gonna just come after us?"

"They don't have a reason to. Dawn's dead. They'll have a new leader now."

"Dawn's dead. Beth's dead. What the fuck was it all for?" Daryl asked bitterly. "She was stupid."

"What?"

"She died tryin' to save that kid. All she had to do was walk away."

"Daryl," Carol offered softly, reaching over to touch his arm. He shrunk away a little, and Carol pulled her hand back. "Daryl, she was brave. They were going to kill him, and you know it."

"She was one of _ours_." His eyes flashed angrily as he peered down the road. "_He _was one of them."

"You know that's not true," she murmured.

"Don't matter now. She's dead." Carol watched him chew his lip and knew he wasn't going to say anymore on the matter for now.

"But we're not," Carol reminded him. She searched his face, but he wouldn't look at her. "What was it you said? We're not ashes? We're still here." Daryl scoffed and stepped on the gas, and Carol felt that lump in her throat. She gripped the door handle and fought back the urge to cry.

"None of this shit matters. None of it. We're gonna live until we die, and when we die, it's gonna be brutal, and it's gonna be painful, and there's not a fuckin' thing none of us can do to stop it. There ain't no point. I couldn't keep her safe. I couldn't help her. The minute they took her, she was already dead. Just another body walkin' around this God damned earth." He smirked and shook his head. "That's all any of us are. Only difference between us and them? We got a pulse. That's it. We're just as aimless as them. Ain't no point. Ain't no direction. We're just waitin' to die."

_"The hell's the matter with you, boy? You still gonna cry for your mama?" Danny Dixon towered over his youngest son as the boy cried in a heap on the floor after one of his whoopings. "Take it like a man, son!" _

_"Daddy, no!" the boy cried out, wiping his bloody nose. At eight-years-old, Daryl Dixon had stopped fighting back. He'd once thrown a brick at his father during one of those whoopings, and he'd only been beaten black and blue until his shoulder popped out of place. _

_Liquor on his breath, Daniel Dixon knelt down next to his son, pressing his thumb into the small of the boy's bare back, getting a cry out of him. _

_"You take your whippin', boy. You take it, or I'll give Merle twice as bad when he gets home." Daryl clenched his fists, but he couldn't fight. He knew that even in his father's drunken state, he meant what he said. Merle was at his girlfriend's house, but he would surely get that beating as soon as he stepped foot in the house._

_Daryl surrendered to his father's anger, and when he felt the belt lash at his back, he bit his lip to keep from screaming out. He gripped the rug between his fingers and closed his eyes, praying for his father's arm to tire quickly or for him to just be so dead drunk he'd pass out in the middle of the beating. _

_After about six lashes of the belt, Danny stumbled backward and sat down in his chair, opening another beer. _

_"You think about that next time you run your mouth at your daddy, you little sumbitch." Danny tossed an empty beer bottle in Daryl's direction, narrowly missing his head. Daryl pulled on his Scooby Doo tee shirt and wiped his bloody nose on the back of his hand. The blood from the open cuts on Daryl's back soaked through that shirt, and when he turned to walk back to his bedroom, he vowed to himself that one day, when he was bigger, he would fight back, and maybe for the first time in his life, he'd win._

For the first time since that night at the CDC, Carol Peletier stood in an honest-to-God shower with honest-to-God hot water pouring over her tired, aching body. She ran her soapy hands through her hair and over her skin, washing away the sweat and dirt and blood that had seemed to be collecting there for far too long. She moaned softly and leaned her forehead against the shower wall, feeling a little dizzy and grabbing a hand rail for support. She heard the beeping of her timer, alerting her that her three minutes was up, and she groaned, abruptly cutting off the water and feeling cool air rush over her.

Trembling and naked, she stepped out of the shower and limped over to the sink, where a fresh pair of clothes waited for her, fresh out of the dryer. She pulled them over herself, aching with each movement, still feeling a tremendous amount of pain from getting hit by the car outside of Grady Memorial. She was still a little disoriented from being unconscious for a few days, but she was thankful that she had woken up, that the group had found her, and that she'd survived.

The last couple of days had been heartbreaking and grueling. After Beth's death, they'd moved on, everybody too emotionally exhausted to even think straight. For Carol, every time she looked at Maggie, she wanted to cry. Maggie was emotionally distant from pretty much everyone except for Glenn, whom she clung to as if her life depended on it. Daryl was just drained and completely without hope. She knew that losing Beth had been a devastating blow to him. She knew he was probably thinking about losing Sophia, because it was all she could think about lately, too. He'd tried so hard, but in the end, there had been nothing he could do. It was over.

They'd stumbled upon an old nursing home, and after clearing out the walkers that roamed around inside, they'd discovered the generators in the basement, and everybody had settled in to enjoy some clean clothes and hot showers before the generators gave out completely, which would probably be in the next few hours.

Carol wiped the fog off of the mirror and looked at herself. She grimaced and forced herself not to look away. While the shower had washed away the dirt and blood, it had really brought just how bruised and scratched up she really was. She looked away and turned to walk out of the bathroom. Daryl was waiting out in the hall. She gasped a little when she saw him, all clean, his wet hair dripping onto his bare chest as a towel hung loosely around his neck.

"Feel better?" she asked.

"Feel cleaner," he muttered. "You?"

"Same," she said quietly. She saw Michonne coming down the hall with her pack, a wide smile on her face at the idea of getting a hot shower.

"You done?" she asked.

"It's all yours," Carol said, stepping out of the way. Michonne sighed and stood there, staring at the shower in awe.

"Just in case I'm dreaming, please don't wake me up," she laughed. Carol gave her a little smile and leaned against the door when Michonne closed it behind her.

"You goin' to bed?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.

"Yeah. You?" He gave her a little nod, and the two walked toward their room together. They hadn't talked about it. They hadn't skirted around the issue. They'd just brought their things to the same place and picked their beds.

It was nice. There were two beds, and Carol imagined that two little old ladies must have shared it, judging by the various crocheted doilies and other knickknacks around the room. She didn't care, though. They had walls, and they had beds, and for a little while, anyway, they still had electricity.

Daryl closed the door behind him, and Carol felt her stomach jump at the sound of the latch clicking into place. She sat down on the edge of one of the beds, and Daryl stood there looking at her. She watched him, saw the way his gaze wavered between looking at her face and anywhere but there. Carol tilted her head a little, watching as gathered up the nerve to move or speak or do whatever it was that he was thinking about in his head. So, she eased him out of his uncertainty.

"Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"What you said in the truck the other day? About there being no point?" He said nothing. He just sat down next to her on the bed. She brushed her hand over his arm. "That's what I thought when I saw Sophia walk out of that barn. When I saw her like that…all I could think about was when I first held her in my arms on the day she was born. And then I thought, what's the point? We come into this world and have no control over the conditions we're born into. And we spend every day just trying to survive." She brushed her knuckle over her eyelash, wiping away a tear. "But now I know. We can make a difference, no matter how small. We just keep trying."

"What changed your mind?"

"You did." She gave him a little smile when he looked up at her with surprise. She couldn't read him at that moment, and her stomach felt twisted and tangled.

He watched her, the blood screaming and tearing through his veins, his heart thundering beneath his chest. He looked into those pretty blue eyes and saw she still held hope. Even after being hit by a damn car and being held at some freak show cop hospital, she was still Carol. She was still that same strong woman that had fought for way too long to find that strength inside and use it. She was the same Carol that he hadn't realized—until she walked into sight in those woods after Terminus—that was like air for him. She'd been through a hell of a lot more than he'd ever even thought about in the last couple of years, and she was still standing. She was still getting through it.

In that moment, he looked at her, studying the way her eyes sought his, so open, so deep, so relieved to be alive, and he felt a tug in his chest. He'd lost at every turn lately. He'd lost Beth when his only job had been protecting her when they were on their own. He'd tried to guide her and let her experience the things she needed to experience after her dad's death, and he hadn't even been able to keep an eye on her. She was just a kid, and he'd lost her, and it had been like seeing Sophia walk out of that barn, knowing that all the pain, all the searching, all the reassuring Carol had been for nothing. Seeing Dawn put a bullet through Beth's head had been like watching Sophia peer out of the darkness of the barn, staring at them all with dead eyes.

"Daryl," Carol said softly, placing her hand on his, "we get to survive. We get to keep pushing toward something better." Daryl looked away, his cheeks burning hot. "We haven't lost everything. Not yet. We've lost before. We move past it. We have to." He looked at her again, and she drew back a little bit, wondering what he was thinking. Why wasn't he speaking? But when she felt his hands on her shoulders and saw him leaning into her, she took a deep breath, closing her eyes and waiting for him.

It wasn't slow or gentle or anything like she'd expected a first kiss from Daryl Dixon to be. With all the awkwardness that had happened between them the past couple of years, she expected something a little more shy and conserved, but his lips pressed against hers firmly, and she heard his breaths coming in shallow gasps when she opened up to him, his tongue hard and probing against hers.

She groaned against his mouth, twisting her fingers into his hair, pulling him against her, feeling his hands gripping her hips, holding onto her, unable to let go. He broke the kiss for only a moment to catch his breath, and when Carol opened her eyes, she saw him starting into her eyes, his eyes dark with desire but with something else, too, a yearning, a need for something, a pleading. Despite her aches and pains, her body was responding to him, and she felt her breath grow shallow in her lungs when he kissed her again. Her head swam with thoughts, and her heart raced as his fingers grazed her neck.

She pulled back gently, placing her hand on his chest. She saw the worry in his eyes, the need, the questions, the pain, and she felt her lip trembling as the tears came back. He brushed her cheek with his calloused thumb, and she leaned into his touch, sniffling and blinking through the tears at the evolution of what once was to what was now, what was present.

And then she fell into him, her mouth against his, opening up for his eager tongue, feeling it slide against hers, a little more gently now but with as much intensity as the last kiss, and when she felt herself falling back against the mattress, she shut off all thought and let herself feel.


	2. Chapter 2: Anchor

Chapter 2: Anchor

_"Carol? Are you alright?" _

_"Mom, I'm fine," Carol sniffled as she spoke through the phone receiver. "You told me yourself, the first year of marriage is the hardest."_

_"Sweetheart, I'm worried about you. If I tell your father you called me crying, he'll come over there and pick you up and bring you home."_

_"No! Mom, I'm fine. I promise. Ed and I just had a fight. It's ok."_

_"Did he hurt you, Carol?" _

_"Mom…no. No, nothing like that."_

_"You would tell me if he did, wouldn't you?" her mother asked, voice filled with worry and fear. _

_"Mom, I'm fine. I promise you. All couples argue. It's part of marriage. It'll be alright."_

_"Then why did you call if everything's alright?"_

_"Can't I just call to talk?"_

_"Of course you can, but when a mother gets a tearful phone call from her little girl—and I don't care that you're twenty-five, you'll always be my little girl—she can't help but think the worst."_

_"I'm fine, Mom. Really. I'm sorry I worried you." _

_"Well," her mother mused, still not quite convinced that her daughter was alright. "You know I love Ed, but you're my girl, and I don't care how much I love that husband of yours. If he ever hurts you, I'll be over there so fast with your father that Ed's head will spin." The front door clicked open, and Carol startled. "Mom, Ed's home from work. I'll…I'll talk to you later."_

_"You're sure you're ok?"_

_"I'm fine. I love you, Mom. Bye." She hung up before her mother could respond, and Ed came strutting into the living room with a bouquet of roses in his arms. She turned away for a moment, feeling sick, and when she felt his hand on her shoulder, she jumped._

_"I'm so sorry we fought, Carol," he drawled, his voice low and soft. "I was a bastard, and I admit that." His grip on her shoulder tightened a little, so she turned so he'd unhand her. She looked at him, standing there, holding those flowers out, and she felt the tears in her eyes, recalling the first night he'd brought her flowers. It had been their first date, and he'd been such a romantic. "I'll never forgive myself for saying those things to you. Please, Carol. Say you forgive me." _

_"You accused me of sleeping with your best friend," Carol cried. "You know I love you, Ed. You know I'd never hurt you." Ed held the flowers out to her._

_"I'm so sorry, darlin'." His voice shook as she took them in her arms. "I just love you so much." Carol wiped her tears away, and she let Ed pull her into a hug. He kissed her cheek, and he wrapped his arms around her, stroking her back. "I ever raise my voice like that to you again, you can kick me out. I swear I'd never hurt you." Carol nodded against his shoulder and hugged him back. "I love you."_

_"I love you, too, Ed. I forgive you."_

Carol gasped against Daryl's mouth as his hand ghosted up her shirt, moving over her bare stomach. She gripped his shoulders, moaning as his tongue and lips explored the hollow of her throat and her neck, gliding up to her ear, gently biting there.

"Daryl," she whispered, her lips trembling as his hand moved farther up her shirt. His palm closed around her bare breast, and she arched upward, nerves she'd forgotten she had electrifying throughout her body.

He pulled back, staring down at her, lips parted, breath strangled and weak. She pressed her palm against his cheek, her eyes searching his, asking an unspoken question. He watched her for a moment, his eyes traveling from her striking blue eyes, rimmed red from crying, to the swollen flush of her just-kissed lips.

Her hands moved up his arms, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, arching up finding his lips, kissing him gently before pressing her nose against his cheek, her breath whispering against his ear.

"It's ok," she murmured. "It's ok. I'm here." He buried his face against her neck, smelling that intoxicating Carol smell. It consumed him, and his lips pressed against her pulse, feeling her pounding heart hammering there, strong and urgent. He groaned when her hand moved tentatively down his chest, stroking his stomach just above the waistband of his pants. He felt his dick tighten at the feel of her hand so close to him, and when she arched upward and kissed him again, he let her pull him down, his body pinning hers to the mattress.

She relaxed against the bed, letting him touch her, letting him kiss her. There was no doubt that she wanted this, and she wanted to give him what he needed in that moment. When his hand brushed over her stomach again, his fingers pressed a bit firmly, and Carol winced, bringing them both back to the reality that she was still pretty banged up from the car.

Daryl recoiled and moved off of her, a look of complete remorse on his face.

"Fuck, Carol," he murmured, "I'm sorry. I…I hurt you." Carol shook her head, sitting up, her eyes wide, tear-filled as she saw the fear on his face as plain as day.

"No," she whispered, reaching out toward him. "You didn't."

"God damn it, what's wrong with me?" he asked, his hands shaking against his knees.

"Stop it!" Carol cried out, coming off a little angrier than she'd intended. "Stop. You didn't do anything I didn't want you to do."

"You just got hit by a fuckin' car. You almost _died_. And here I am all over you, and you're hurtin'."

"You didn't see me complaining, did you?" Carol wondered, getting off of her bed and moving to sit next to him. He scooted over, putting more distance between them.

"I ain't that kind of man," Daryl said quietly. "I'm sorry, Carol. I didn't think."

"I know _exactly_ what kind of man you are," she murmured, reaching over and taking his hand in hers. "And that's the kind of man I want touching me the way you just did." He eyed her. "I'm not trying to seduce you into kissing me or something. I'm telling you the truth. I think it's about time we stop lying to ourselves." His lips twitched at the sound of her making such a bold statement, but he didn't move. He didn't even flinch. "We've known each other for a long time, and I stopped thinking of you as just my friend the second you came to me in those woods. I've wanted you for longer, I just didn't...I didn't think there was any possibility you wanted me, too."

"You kiddin'?"

"No," Carol said quietly. "You've never really been open with your feelings before." She licked her lips and scooted over so their knees touched. He didn't move this time. "When you came to me and held me in the woods, I knew." She stroked his cheek. "I love you, Daryl, and I know you're going through something right now, and you're going to be going through it for a while. I just want you to know that I'm here. I love you." Her words hit him like a freight train, and he sat gaping at her, feeling like the most useless fool in the world, the way his mouth opened and shut, grasping for the words to tell her exactly how he felt. Instead, he leaned in, kissing her gently, his fingers brushing over the back of her neck and feeling her shiver under his touch.

When he pulled away, she wiped away her own tears.

"I just wanted you to know," she murmured. "I didn't…I didn't want to go another day without telling you, because we don't know what happens next. We don't." She caressed his cheeks with her fingertips. "And if you need me, I'm here. You won't hurt me. You never could." Daryl felt his stomach twist, and he felt like the lowest bastard on the planet. Here she was, professing these wonderful things to him, and he couldn't get the words out. He couldn't put into words what he felt about her, because she meant _everything_ to him. She was all he had, and losing Beth had solidified his faith in the fact that Carol had been his anchor for a long time, and he needed her now more than ever to keep him from flying off the handle and saying 'fuck it all' to the world and to the fucked up situations they inevitably found themselves getting in the middle of. She brought him back, and he couldn't even tell her that.

"I'm sorry," he murmured again, standing up and turning toward the door. Carol felt her stomach lurch. She physically felt sick at the idea of him leaving. She tried to suppress the sob that accompanied the absolute emptiness that filled her heart when he walked away. Maybe he could hurt her after all.

_"Merle? What the fuck?" Daryl grumbled, kicking over a half-empty can of beer as he walked into the trashed trailer. Merle was knocked out on the sofa, one leg draped over the back, the other stretched out with his foot resting on the floor. He was covered in bruises and blood, and it wasn' t until he felt the cold steel of a gun against he temple that he realized Merle had been caught unawares by one of his dealers._

_"Where's the fuckin' money?" came a voice, accompanied by a quick shove to Daryl's shoulder. Daryl's fists balled at his sides, and he braced himself for what came next. A knee to the stomach had him falling over, his knees buckling as he sank to the floor. The gun pressed against the back of his neck._

_"Merle owes me, and he's dry. You gonna repay your brother's debt, or am I gonna have to make an example of the both of you?"_

_"Fuck you," Daryl grunted through gritted teeth. That welcomed a sharp kick to the back, and Daryl felt the pain sear through him, lightning hot. He knew he'd be pissing blood later. It wouldn't be the first time._

_A hand grabbed the back pocket of his pants, tearing the fabric away and taking out Daryl's wallet. He struggled as the gunman kept his knee firmly in Daryl's back so he couldn't get up. _

_Daryl had done some car work for Old John Anderson down the road, and the hundred bucks the old man had given him for his efforts was all he had to his name. And he heard the crinkle of that crisp bill as the gunman pulled it out and stuffed it into one of his own pockets. Daryl struggled harder, to no avail._

_"This'll do for a start, but you tell your worthless brother that he still owes me, and I'll be back to collect. He don't have my money, and he might just wake up dead, if you get my meaning." The gunman got up, kicking Daryl once more for good measure. "You stay down 'til I'm gone, or I'll blow your fuckin' brains out."_

_A groan from the sofa startled the man with the gun, and he hit Daryl hard in the back of the hand with the gun. Daryl blacked out for a few minutes, and by the time he came around, Merle was kneeling next to him, shaking his shoulder._

_"Wake up, baby brother," Merle said groggily. Daryl opened one eye and peered up at his brother, bleeding and bruised. Merle spat, a stream of blood and a broken tooth coming out, making Daryl cringe. "What the fuck happened?"_

_"One of your dealers came to collect, asshole," Daryl grunted, sitting up and rubbing the tender spot on the back of his head where he'd been struck._

_"Shit, they know old Merle's good for it. I'm the only client they got they let buy on 'credit'." Merle chuckled and shook his head. Daryl shoved his brother's shoulder when he stood, and he looked down at his older brother, wishing for once he could just get the hell out and never look back. _

_"You owe me a hundred bucks," Daryl pointed out._

_"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good for it," Merle muttered, spitting out another molar. "Fuck, that shit hurts." Knowing he'd never see his money again, money he'd earned by actually working for it, while Merle sat around doing drugs all day, Daryl felt the anger boiling under the surface of his skin. He imagined himself finishing what the dealer had started and knocking out all the rest of Merle's teeth just to teach him a lesson. He gripped the sides of his jeans, his knuckles turning white as he fought the urge to fill in the gaps of Merle's bruises with more bruises. _

_Merle groaned when he tried to stand, holding a hand out for Daryl to help him. Daryl stared down at his pathetic brother. As much as he hated him right now, that was his brother. That was the brother that had protected him from their dad at least a couple of times when they were kids, when the drinking got really bad. As much as Merle used him for money and for a ride when he was too stoned or too drunk to get to the next dealer's house, that was still his brother, and the thought occurred to Daryl that he was all he had left. _

_Daryl held his hand out and helped Merle stand. Merle draped his arm around Daryl's shoulder, grunting as his brother helped him ease back down on the couch. _

_"You need anything?" Daryl asked as he noticed the big blood stain forming on the rug. _

_"Yeah. Bring me my stash, man. Got a killer headache." Daryl fought the urge to kick his brother in the sack. Instead, he went and got Merle's stash, handed it to him and brought him a glass of water. No matter what, that was his brother, and he was all he had left._

The generators had run out about an hour ago, and Carol lay in complete darkness, staring up at the ceiling in the quiet room. She knew the bed next to her was empty, because Daryl hadn't come back. She wasn't sure if she'd gone too far and scared him off with her profession of love or if he was beating himself over the way he'd finally let his needs take over. Maybe he felt like he was taking advantage. Maybe he felt like it wasn't right, because she was recovering. All she knew was that along with her aches and pains from the car hitting her, she now had a dull ache between her legs.

She felt absolutely cold and deserted, and while she wasn't angry with Daryl, she was confused and wished he'd just come back so they could talk or just be quiet in each other's presence. Sometimes just having him near helped.

She lay there for the longest time, and just as she was dozing off, she heard the shuffling of footsteps, followed by the click of the door. She peered over as the light filtered into the room from the crack in the door, and when the gap widened, Daryl stepped through, peering over at her, checking to see if she was asleep. He stood there for a moment, and finally, Carol sat up in the bed.

"I'm awake," she murmured. "Sorry if I disappointed you." The words came out a little bit harsh and filled with exasperation. After everything they'd been through, he was trying to hide from her.

"Sorry," he muttered, slinking across the room with a lit candle in one hand. He put it in the table between the two beds and sat down on his.

"Where were you?"

"Just checkin' the perimeter, makin' sure we're safe for the night." He slid his pack under the bed and looked over at her, watching the candle light flicker over Carol's features. "I'm sorry 'bout earlier," he muttered.

"What are you apologizing for? You didn't do anything wrong."

"Like hell I didn't. Carol, I hurt you. I was selfish and…"

"The only thing that hurt me was when you walked away." She got back up and moved to sit next to him on his bed. "I told you I loved you. I didn't expect you to say it back. I just wanted you to know. No strings attached." She watched as the redness crept into his cheeks, and she sighed. "It doesn't matter if you don't feel the same way. For all I know, maybe you and Beth…"

"Stop," he said sharply. "It wasn't like that."

"Well, how was I supposed to know? You start to get close, and then you pull away. I know you, Daryl, but sometimes I just can't read you."

"You're the most frustratin' woman I ever met."

"Why, because I make you talk?"

"Yeah," he said with a sheepish smile. She smiled back, feeling a little better now, because at least she was getting him to open up a little more.

"When we first went into Atlanta," Carol said softly, putting her hand over his on the mattress, "you probably don't know it, but you did something for me that nobody else has ever done. You brought me back."

"What're you talkin' about?"

"I was going to leave," she admitted. "I was going to take that car and just go. Be somewhere else. But you gave me a reason to stay."

"How?"

"I saw how determined you were to get Beth back and how you were willing to do anything for her, because…"

"Because she's family. _Was_ family," Daryl said quietly. "She was one of ours. I'd have done the same thing for you. Jesus, Carol, when I saw you in that wheel chair, I…somethin' just…you were alive. I thought you were dead. I was so afraid that when we got back to that hospital, you'd be dead, and I wouldn't have got the chance to say goodbye." Carol moved her hand to his shoulder.

"I'm still here," she promised him. "I'm here, Daryl."

"I shoulda been right there with you."

"Stop," Carol said softly. "Stop blaming yourself. It wasn't your fault. Beth wasn't your fault. None of it, ok?" He shook his head.

"I coulda stopped it."

"How? Did you develop super powers that I'm not aware of? You could have pushed that car out of the way? You could have stopped those cops from taking Beth and not shooting you in the process? Daryl, stop beating yourself up. We've _all_ got regrets." She froze, suddenly understanding. She was pushing him to talk about things, and she still couldn't even talk about Lizzie and Mika, so how could she ask him to talk about his troubles?

Daryl looked at her, and she at him, and they watched one another for a moment.

"I ain't good at this," he said quietly. "Never had nobody tell me they love me before." Carol felt her heart break in her chest, and she reached out, stroking his cheek. "'Cept my mama, but I don't really remember her." He took her hand in his curling her fingers into his. She sighed softly when he looked at their hands joined together.

"I never loved nobody before, either. 'Cept Merle, but he don't count." Carol bit back a chuckle and gave him a little smile.

"When you feel it, you'll know," Carol assured him. "It'll happen. I know we're staring at the end of the world right now, but hey, there's still hope." She tried for humor, but she caught the serious gaze on his face when she nudged his shoulder.

"Don't you hear what I'm sayin'?" he asked. Carol bit her lip nervously, and he leaned in, kissing her gently.

"Maybe you need to speak a little louder," she offered, when he pulled back a little. He struggled with his confidence, looking into her eyes and then down at their linked hands, until she finally lifted his head and urged him to look at her.

"I'm sayin' I love you too." Carol's eyes brimmed with tears, and her lip trembled, and she pulled her arms around his neck, hugging him close. He held her close for a moment, stroking her back, but he pulled back a little, his hands on her arms. "I ain't exactly sure what that means. I mean…shit." Carol squeezed his forearms gently. "I ain't never been like this with nobody. Ain't never known nobody like you."

"That's ok," she said softly. "We'll take it slow." He watched her, and he felt like, inside, he was moving at warped speed. Inside, he wanted to go to those places they both wanted but weren't quite ready for yet. But he also knew that this was new and precious to both of them, and it wasn't something he wanted to rush into and wreck like every other damned thing in his life. She was too important.

"Earlier..when I kissed you…" he started, but Carol shushed him with a kiss.

"You didn't do anything I didn't want you to do," her words from earlier repeating, as she caressed his cheek. "I don't want you to have any regrets. I don't want you to feel like I'm your only option and that you're settling."

"Stop," he muttered. "I love you. I'll tell ya every day if you need me to. I ain't lettin' go of you again."

"Good," she said softly, leaning in to kiss him again. "Because you've got me."


	3. Chapter 3 - Strength

Chapter 3: Strength

_Carol had waited for Sophia to fall asleep before she'd dared to let the tears fall. She clutched her five-year-old daughter as they shared a small bunk at the women's shelter. It was the third visit in as many weeks, and she felt a mix of guilt and self-hatred for being so weak to go back to him every time._

_Her shoulder was aching, and she wouldn't have gone tonight if the nurse at the hospital hadn't insisted. She'd gone to the ER with a broken eye-socket and a dislocated shoulder, and the nurse had insisted on calling the police. Carol had explained that she'd simply fallen while up on a ladder, and the nurse knew better. However, with little Sophia hugging her teddy bear and watching as the techs and nurses and doctors came and went from behind the curtain, she had given in to Carol's story but asked her to not go home for the night, if not for her own sake, for her daughter's. Carol had felt like a terrible mother in that instance. She hated that she wasn't strong enough to leave him for good. She hated him. And she loved him. He was the man that beat her senselessly when he overheard her speaking to one of the single dad's whose kid was in Sophia's class. When she'd hung up the phone, he'd pushed her into the wall and dislocated her shoulder, something she'd learn to fix a long time ago to avoid the hospital visits, inquiries and overall looks of pity from the nurses and other patients who glimpsed her in that condition._

_She choked back the sobs as she felt dull ache in her head and the sharp pain searing around her eye. The ache in her shoulder grew more painful, and little Sophia shifted in her sleep, tucking closer into her mother. Carol stroked her daughter's hair and cursed herself for not being strong enough. _

_Ed had made her weak. He'd make her into something she'd always pitied before she met him. He'd made her dependent on his income, made her feel guilty if she didn't act grateful enough. He put a roof over their head, and he reminded her every day that she would be out on the streets if it wasn't for him. He'd broken her. And she had his child, and Sophia, as little as she was, didn't understand that mommy was so sad all the time because daddy was mean. She just knew that her daddy worked and brought her home toys, and even though he didn't spend a lot of time with her, he told her that she was his little girl, and he called her angel. _

_He'd never put a hand on his daughter. He saved it all for Carol, and as she looked down at her sleeping daughter, she slowed her breathing and wiped the last of her tears away. She'd do anything for that girl, even if that meant taking the beatings so Sophia was safe. Someday, they'd be free of him, but not now. Not yet. The light at the end of the tunnel was so far away, the tunnel was black, and they would go home tomorrow, back to Ed, back to the quiet lives that gave way to complete chaos and brutality when Sophia wasn't home. She could take it. She could protect her daughter in the only way she could, for now. Someday, they'd be free of Ed Peletier, but not now._

Carol woke when the first light began to peek into the room. She blinked and yawned and realized something heavy was holding her down. She almost panicked, until she realized where she was and who was laying on that very small bed with her. Daryl was sleeping, turned toward her, his head resting against her shoulder, his arm draped over her stomach. She smiled a little and gently rubbed his arm, staring at his peaceful face as he slept. He still looked exhausted, but she was thankful he had fallen asleep. At least, for a little while, he had a reprieve from the living nightmares they'd encountered in the last few days.

She shifted a little, and he curled his hand into her shirt, as if subconsciously keeping her from leaving him. She bit her lip and smiled, brushing that sheepdog hair out of his eyes. He grunted a little, and the more her fingers played with his hair, the more he became aware that somebody was awake, and he opened one eye, looking up to see her looking at him.

"Morning," she said softly. He closed his eye again, rubbed his eyes with his knuckles and propped himself up on one arm to look at her.

"Mornin'," he said quietly. "You sleep alright?"

"Better than I have in months," she admitted. "You?"

"Yeah," he said quietly. "You ok? I was layin' on you."

"I'm fine," she laughed. "I'm not complaining." Her fingers curled in the neck of his shirt, and she pulled him closer for a kiss.

"Easy," he murmured, his breath warm against her lips.

"I won't hurt you," she promised, her nose bumping his as they kissed.

"Ain't me I'm worried about," he replied when he pulled back.

"I won't break," she promised him, kissing him again. She moaned softly against his lips, and his hand moved to her hip. She gasped a little when his fingers brushed against the exposed between her pants and her shirt, and Daryl caught her gasp with his lips, moving his hand away and caressing her neck.

"Sorry," he murmured. She smiled and nuzzled his cheek.

"It's ok," she promised.

A knock came to the door, and Daryl sat up a bit quickly, helping Carol up.

"Uh, yeah?" he asked, running his fingers through his hair as he picked up his pack off the floor.

"You two hungry?" Rick opened the door, peeking around with a tense look on his face ,as if he was expecting to see Daryl's bare ass or somebody naked. What he saw, instead, was Daryl helping Carol out of the bed, their clothes wrinkled but their dignity intact.

"I could eat," Daryl muttered, grabbing his crossbow and slinging it over his shoulder. He looked at Carol, who raised her eyebrows and suddenly felt that familiar ache in her stomach.

"I'm starving," she admitted.

"Maggie and Rosita are working on something right now, so come on down to the cafeteria when you're ready. You feelin' alright, Carol?"

"Better, thanks," she said softly. Rick nodded and left the room, leaving Carol and Daryl alone again. Carol winced as she stretched out, feeling a little more achy than yesterday. Perhaps having slept in a more comfortable bed had let her body realize just what she'd been missing since the end happened, and now her body wasn't ready to get up and get moving quite yet.

She stumbled a little when she started for the door, and he caught her around the waist before she could fall.

"Hey, you need to sit down." He helped her back down onto the bed, kneeling next to her. His watched as she put her head in her hands, moaning softly and leaning forward.

"I'm alright," she promised. "I'm pretty sure I had a concussion. I'll be alright." Daryl eyed her, not certain if she was being completely honest, but she put her hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

"I've had one before. It's ok." When he saw her flinch at her own words, he knew, and she saw the anger flash in his eyes. She leaned forward and kissed him gently. "We're moving forward, alright?" He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Come on. Let's go eat."

_Daryl Dixon didn't cry. He'd learned that crying only made the punishment far worse. At ten years old, he was short and a little on the scrawny side, and his older brother was always picking on him. But Merle was getting taller and was pretty strong, and he'd thrown a few punches at their old man on a few occasions, when the beatings got too severe. That was one thing Daryl was thankful for. His father was starting to fear Merle. But, Merle was in juvie right now, so he wasn't there to throw punches for his little brother._

_He sat in the dark, leaning against the locked closet door, counting under his breath. "Twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one." He felt like the walls were closing in around him, and his father laughed outside._

_"That's what you get, you little bastard," he laughed. "You mess with my stash again, and you'll be wishin' for the closet when I get done with ya." Daryl balled his fists up and slammed them into the ground repeatedly, making no noise as they landed on shag carpeting. He'd taken his father's stash of powder, whatever it was, and he'd poured it down the toilet. All he knew was that his dad was more violent after he smelled that stuff. Whatever it was, it sure had angered his dad to almost explosive levels. _

_"You proud of yourself, you little shit? You gonna work off what I paid for that shit when you get out. I even hear you sniffle, your ass is getting the belt."_

_"Stop!" Daryl screamed out, not even realizing it had been building up inside of him. He fell backward when Danny pulled the door open, nearly ripping it off of its broken hinges. _

_"What'd you say to me? You talkin' back, boy?"_

_"No," Daryl grunted through gritted teeth. "Leave me alone." His father was crazy with anger now, and he grabbed him by the shirt, slamming him against the wall._

_"You're askin' for it now. Don't say I didn't warn ya." He tossed his son to the floor in a heap and remopved his belt, folding it in half with the buckle end out. He lifted his arm, and Daryl's pained screams could be heard halfway down the block when the metal smacked his skin, singeing like a flame._

Carol was just loading up water bottles into her pack when Maggie walked over to her after breakfast. The young woman's eyes had dark circles under them, and they were rimmed red from crying.

"Hey," Carol said softly. "How you holding up?"

"Not well," Maggie croaked out hoarsely. "But I have to try, right?" Carol gently squeezed the young woman's shoulder.

"She was brave, your sister," she said softly. "I don't know all of the details, but…but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be here today if it hadn't been for Beth being at that hospital." She saw the fresh tears in Maggie's eyes, and Maggie bit back a sob. "I'm so sorry, Maggie."

"When she was born, I didn't want nothin' to do with her," Maggie confessed. "I liked bein' daddy's little girl, and she was a threat." She smiled at the silly memory. "But dad found ways to make me pay attention to her. He'd leave me in charge of her for five minutes, saying it was really important, but really, he was just going to the kitchen or somethin'. When she got older, she was my best friend, you know? Then when I got older, she was this bratty kid who kept stealing my clothes." Maggie shook her head. "I was numb. When the prison fell, I just held onto what I knew. I knew I was alive, and it wasn't long 'til I figured out Glenn was too. Then when Daryl told me Beth…Beth was taken, I tried not to think about it. I tried to believe she was alright, alive somewhere."

"I did the same," Carol admitted. "When Sophia disappeared. Part of me knew she was dead, but part of me tried to keep hope alive. Daryl helped me. I'll always be grateful to him for that." She peered over at Daryl, who was engaged in a conversation with Rick at a nearby table.

"You don't resent that?" Maggie asked. "I mean, he kept hope alive for you, but in the end, Sophia wasn't…she…"

"If Daryl hadn't kept me going, I honestly might have died right along with Sophia." Carol's eyes sparkled with tears. "When I saw her come out of that barn, everything that I had hoped for came crashing down, and somehow I held on, but barely."

"You're lucky you had him."

"I didn't," Carol admitted. "Not completely. He took Sophia's death hard. He pulled away, and he lashed out, but he came back around. He was there when it counted, and he's been there ever since."

"Glenn's been…he's been close by. He doesn't get that I need space."

"Glenn loves you," Carol said quietly. "Just tell him. He'll understand if you tell him to back off a little. Sometimes you just need a minute to yourself. I get it. I know how that feels." Maggie gave her a thankful smile as the tears fell again, and Carol squeezed her shoulder. Maggie headed off, while Daryl came walking back over.

"Maggie ok?"

"She will be," she said softly. She peered around to see who was looking, and nobody was, so she leaned in and gave him a gentle peck on the lips.

"What's that for?" he wondered, linking his fingers with hers.

"It's a thank you…you know, just for being you. That's all." He stared at her, a little bewildered, but his lips turned up in a smile despite his confusion.

"Remind me to be me more often, huh?" She laughed and squeezed his hand.

"Come on. Help me pack. Something tells me we've got miles to go before we find what we're looking for." Daryl nodded, saying nothing in return, because neither he nor she knew what they were looking for. Walls, a roof, a feeling of security, sure, but there was a very good chance there was no place left on the earth that could provide all three of those things for this group for a substantial amount of time. If a prison could be taken down, couldn't anything? The realization struck him that whatever walls they found or constructed could be burnt down as easily as they were built. Maybe there was no hope left after all.

But when he looked at Carol and saw the smile on her lips as she tucked a few items in her pack, he figured that if Carol could still wear a smile after everything she'd been through, then maybe there was still something to be hopeful for in this world.


	4. Chapter 4 - Happy

Chapter 4: Happy

Given that Eugene was lying about having a cure, the group had hit a roadblock with their plans. However, now that the group was as intact as it ever would be, they had all sat around and decided that the best thing to do would be to move further away from Atlanta. It was too over run, and they really didn't want to risk getting into any future conflicts with the inhabitants of Grady Memorial.

Michonne had suggested moving into the mountains, but Rick wasn't a hundred percent with her on that one. First of all, there would be limited resources, winters would be bad, and there was no guarantee that there weren't herds in the mountains already. Rick figured the best game plan was to head out and find walls as quickly as possible.

The future was bleak at this point, and nobody really had the energy to muster up any kind of excitement about going somewhere new with the off chance they might find a place with walls for safety.

"So we just keep runnin' 'til we run out of gas or get our asses caught in a herd then?" Daryl asked after Rick had made his suggestion.

"We can't stay here," he pointed out as they stood outside the nursing home.

"Why not?" Glenn asked. "It's secure."

"We'd be stuck inside. We'd be more prisoners here than we were when we were living in a prison. Just walking outside could get us killed. It's not safe here. We need to get further away from the city."

"Home was far away from the city," Maggie pointed out. "So was the prison. But the herds came anyway."

"If it ain't herds of walkers, it's herds of people. These days, what's the fuckin' difference, anyway?" Daryl's words were hard as he peered through his shaggy hair and squinted as the sun beat down on them in the middle of that long, Georgia highway.

Carol's attention snapped toward Daryl at the sound of his voice, and she caught his gaze. She considered his words for a moment as she watched him. Given all they'd been through, she certainly understood his feelings on the matter. Because of people, Hershel was dead. Because of people, Merle and Beth were dead. Andrea too. Still, he was so angry, and it worried her a little. She didn't fear him. She feared _for_ him.

When the group continued talking amongst themselves, Carol slipped her hand into Daryl's, gently squeezing his hand. He looked at her, seeing the reassuring look in her eyes, and he squeezed her hand back, feeling his anger subsiding and his nerves settling. Daryl muttered something into Glenn's ear in front of them, and the younger man nodded. Daryl glanced at Carol, gave her a little nod, and they slipped off to fill up water bottles in a nearby spring while the others continued talking about where they should and shouldn't go.

_At the age of twelve, Daryl Dixon was pretty much on his own every day. The day Merle had turned eighteen, he'd run off and hadn't looked back, so Daryl rarely saw his big brother anymore. While he rested the fact that Merle had left him with their asshole father, he was always relieved when Merle did stop by, if not just because it would usually divert Danny's angry attention in his direction. The difference was, Merle was his own man now, and Danny couldn't do a damned thing about it. _

_Still, when Merle wasn't playing musical couches at his buddies' houses since he had no money to shell out for his own place, he was usually getting into some kind of trouble. If Merle wasn't being held downtown, he was at some girl's house, or he was with one of his dealers. Daryl knew enough to know that the guys Merle hung around with always gave him that stuff that inevitably led him back to the county jail._

_It was summer, so without school, Daryl was pretty much left to his own devices. His dad had managed to scrounge himself up a job, something that paid decent, but that money would inevitably go to the "lady friends" that his dad brought over to stay the night, and he never saw them again. They always left with a smile on their face in the morning, and a wad of cash in their hands. _

_On this particular day, he was sitting on the back porch, tossing rocks at an old, burned out tree stump. The sky was overcast, which meant it was probably going to rain, which meant there was no time to get down to the creek to fish. He knew better than to get out in the rain and get sick. If his pop had to pay for a doctor and medicine, he'd give him something to really feel bad about, so Daryl figured it wasn't risk the beating._

_He heard a noise from inside the house and turned quickly. He figured it was probably his old man. He couldn't help but figure he'd gotten himself fired for his temper or for being a complete moron, like usual. This meant that he was going to get it, big time, because, hey, they didn't have a dog for him to kick. _

_Daryl quickly pulled himself off the porch and ran to the shed out back. He pulled the door open and got inside, shutting himself in. He waited, listening for a few minutes, before he decided it was safe to turn on his flashlight and look at some of his books._

_He pulled out Treasure Island and began flipping through the pages. He became so engrossed in the tale that he didn't even hear the latch click on the shed, and when the door flew open, he tossed his book aside and sat there, rigid and expecting his father's strong hands to pull him up by the shirt collar and give him a whooping._

_"The hell you doin' hidin' in here, baby brother?" Daryl's eyes went wide._

_"Merle! Where you been?"_

_"Aw, them fuckers locked me up at the county again."_

_"You got out, though."_

_"Sure did. Them assholes can't keep me locked down. Got Darla to pay my bail." Darla was Merle's current girlfriend. Next week it would be yet another blonde that wore too much makeup. "Dad around?"_

_"No. He had a job in Atlanta," Daryl pointed out. "Ain't seen 'im since yesterday mornin'."_

_"Good. Means he'll be gone at least a few more days. You wanna get outta here?" Daryl's eyes brightened._

_"You mean it?"_

_"Sure, little brother. They got a good movie playin' in town. 'Sides, ain't you got a birthday coming up?"_

_"Next week," Daryl said with a nod, excited that Merle had remembered. "Can we go fishing later? If it doesn't rain?"_

_"Sure, little brother. Anything you want." Merle put his arm around his brother's shoulder and led him out to his beat up pickup. Daryl happily chattered away about what he'd been up to since the last time he'd seen him._

_Carol watched as Lizzie held Mika's hands and swung her around in her arms. The two of them laughed happily in the yard, something she hadn't heard in a very long time. Lizzie was having a good day, and while it wasn't exactly a good thing to have so much noise that could attract walkers, it did Carol's heart good to see those kids being kids and having a good time with one another._

_Baby Judith grinned and clapped her hands as Carol bounced her on her knee in the lawn chair. It was a beautiful day, and the air was warm and comforting. Tyreese was chopping wood, and the distinct aroma of pine lifted off the surrounding trees. Carol closed her eyes, leaning her head back, feeling the heat of the sun bathing her, and she felt content. For the first time since Sophia, she felt a happiness that she never thought she'd feel again. Listening to the laughter of those little girls, while Judith babbled and bounced in her arms took her back to the days when Sophia was little, and while her heart ached at the memory of her daughter, the brief though crossed her mind that maybe this was her second chance. Maybe this was her new beginning. Still, the more she thought of it, the heavier her heart felt, and the warmth that bathed her face fell over her more like a dark cloud. _

_Sometimes she woke up, half expecting to find Daryl close by, checking in on her, asking her how she was. He was good like that. He was the kind of guy who seemed to be there when someone needed him. She missed him. She missed their playful banter, and she missed the way he seemed to understand her without going into detailed, heavy conversations. He seemed so attuned to her feelings and to her thought processes, that sometimes it was as if he was reading her mind. She felt like a huge part of her was missing because he wasn't there._

_"Carol! Carol!" Mika laughed, rushing over, cheeks red and breath coming in sporadic gasps. She giggled as she tried to catch her breath. "Come play!"_

_"Oh, I think I'll sit this one out, sweetheart."_

_"Please? You told us to have fun. You should have fun, too. Please, Carol? Please?" Her eager grin was contagious, and Carol couldn't help but smile back._

_"I'll tell you what," Carol said softly, "you go back and play with your sister, and I'll let you pick the story tonight."_

_"Really?" Mika asked. "It's Tyreese's turn."_

_"I'm sure he'll understand," Carol said with a smile. "Go on now. Go play." Mika threw her arms around Carol's neck, catching her by surprise. Carol fought the urge to draw away and not be too maternal, because these girls didn't need babying. They needed someone to prepare them for the horrors of this life. But she couldn't help but hug her back with one arm as Judith lay back against her chest. _

_"Carol?"_

_"What is it, Mika?"_

_"I know you don't want us to call you mom," she said softly, "and I don't want to. I had a mom, and I miss her." Carol eyed her, her eyes glistening with tears. "But you're a good mom. Your little girl was lucky to have a mom like you."_

_"Thank you, Mika," Carol murmured, holding back her tears. "That's very sweet. Go on, now. Go play." Mika hurried off, and Carol felt a tear slip down her cheek. She quickly brushed it away, stood up with Judith in her arms and walked off toward the house, her heart aching for her daughter but also for the fact that part of her wanted to be a mother to those girls. Her heart and her mind were in a constant battle about those children, and she knew that the best thing for them was to set boundaries and let them know that she never would be their mother. But that didn't mean she loved them any less._

"You ok?" Carol finally asked him, as she capped another bottle and slid it into her pack.

"Fine," he said quietly, tossing a stone into the stream.

"You don't like Rick's plan. I don't particularly like the idea of just running off and seeing what we find, either."

"Rick just wants to find a safe place for Carl and Judith. Can't blame him. When you got somethin' worth protectin', you wanna do whatever you can to protect it." He eyed her. "But there are all sorts of ways." Carol smiled a little, nudging his shoulder.

"I'm not going anywhere," she assured him. He glanced at her, his eyes filled with uncertainty. "Nine lives, remember?"

"Think you just about used up three or four of 'em this week," he deadpanned, his eyes fixing on a bruise on her shoulder peeking out from her top. She took his chin in her hand, causing him to look back into her eyes.

"What about you? You took an arrow to the side when you were out looking for Sophia. You've been on countless supply runs gone wrong. You almost had your throat slit at Terminus. I'd say you're more of a cat with eighteen lives." She saw Daryl's face lighten a little bit, and he snorted. They stood, zipping up their packs, and Daryl made the first move, pulling his arm around her. She curled toward him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, pressing her face against his neck. He stroked her back gently, and she sighed.

Her lips grazed against his neck, and she felt his hips jerk against hers. She made a soft mewling sound when his hand caressed the small of her back. He could feel her breath quicken against his neck, and his other hand rested on her hip, gently stroking the exposed skin there in small circles. She pulled her head back just in time to see him lick his bottom lip before she captured his lips with her own. She heard a low grunt escape his throat, and her heart raced.

When her hand moved to his chest, her fingers curling against his leather vest there, she felt her knees weakening and her center starting to throb. Both of his hands were on her hips now, and he was pulling her against him, and her sensitive nerves seemed to be in a frenzy, reaching out for some kind of touch. She gasped softly when he pulled out of their kiss, only to move down to kiss her neck, his tongue sliding over her soft skin, his teeth grazing her just enough to get a moan out of her.

Her eyes rolled back, and she lost herself in the feel of his touches, and somehow, they were tumbling back, and he was lying over her. Even in the rush of it all, he minded how her body ached, and he lay to the side, his arm pulling her to face him. She sighed softly, her eyes darkening with passion as he leaned forward, kissing her again.

Carol moaned softly when his tongue slid against hers, and she felt that deep pull at her core, her hips twitching slightly, aching for more of his touch. Her hand moved up under his shirt, stroking his firm stomach, feeling his skin jump at her touch.

"Ticklish?" she asked softly. She got a little snort out of him and rested her forehead against his, smiling happily at him. It was almost as if the rest of the world had fallen away around them. But when his hand moved up the back of her shirt, stroking her bare back, she closed her eyes again, her skin burning at the heat of his touch.

They knew it wasn't going far today. They knew it couldn't. Neither of them was ready for that. But the idea that they were going to be on the road for who knew how long, and privacy was probably going to be hard to come by had them both yearning for some kind of touch, some kind of understanding that they had one another, body and soul.

He dipped down to kiss the hollow of her throat, and she arched back, completely giving herself over to the way her body responded to his mouth. She felt on fire. She was wet, and it was an unbearable feeling to know that nothing was going to be done about that. Still, she couldn't stop. She couldn't stop touching him.

His hand moved up her small waist, his thumbs playing with the underside of her bra, and she gasped when a thumb flicked over the cup of her bra, and her nipple hardened beneath the fabric. Daryl watched the way her eyes closed and her lips parted slowly and her breaths became ragged. It boosted his confidence in what he was doing, knowing she wanted him to touch her this way. He'd thought about touching her like this for far too long, but to actually be doing it was something far different than he expected. He wanted her completely, and he couldn't wait until they were both in that place, where they could let go and completely give themselves over to one another.

Her hands moved into his hair, and she sought his mouth again, her tongue dipping between his lips when his hands gripped her waist. He was moving over her a little nose, their hips together, his erection undeniably present as it pressed against her center. She gasped, her ankle hooking around his waist, bringing him closer, feeling him press harder against her. She moved her hips, and his head fell against her shoulder as their hips grinded together. The sensation was almost too much, and Carol was panting now, wishing there weren't so many damned layers of fabric between them. The more he touched her, the more her hunger for that touch grew, and they were playing a dangerous game now.

But it all ended too quickly with the snap of a tree branch and the rustle of dead leaves on the ground. Daryl quickly pulled away from her, holding his pack in front of him in desperate hopes of hiding the fact that his dick was stiff in his pants. He helped Carol up, and she ran her fingers through her hair, brushing out a couple of leaves that had found their way in.

When Glenn stepped into the clearing, he immediately sensed that he'd interrupted something, what with the blush on Daryl's cheeks and the fact that Carol's lips were kind of pink and swollen. He couldn't help but grin like an idiot, only to stop when Daryl shot him a cool look that warned him against saying one word.

"Uh, you wanted me to tell you when we're heading out," Glenn muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and trying not to look at their faces for too long out of fear he'd start laughing. "We're heading out." Daryl gave him a nod, and the younger man rushed off toward the road. Carol glanced at Daryl and covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.

"Jesus," he muttered. "Feels like high school or some shit."

"Well, if you play your cards right, you might to get to second base again later." Her words were teasing, but she was still feeling all wound up on the inside.

"Stop." He nudged her arm, and she leaned in to kiss him one more time before they headed off to rejoin the group.


	5. Chapter 5 - Bases

Chapter 5: Bases

_"The hell you think you're doing?" Ed Peletier barked as he stormed into the bedroom, catching Carol packing her overnight bag. Carol froze, her blood running cold at the sound of his booming voice. There was no way to explain around it. There was no way to lie and say she was going to take Sophia on a mother-daughter sleepover or something like that. She was leaving for the shelter, and any lies would make his punishment that much more severe._

_"Ed, I…"_

_"You ungrateful bitch," he growled through clenched teeth. "I put a goddamn roof over your head, and this is how you repay me? You're leavin'?"_

_"I'm not," she stuttered, "please, Ed, I'm not leaving. I'm just…"_

_"Then what the hell are you doing, and don't you fuckin' lie to me, 'cause you'll get it a whole lot worse if you do." _

_"Please, Ed! Sophia's sleeping. Don't wake her."_

_"I don't care what she's doing. She oughta be awake. She oughta know her mama shouldn't disrespect her daddy like that. She's gotta learn, or she'll be as worthless a wife and mother as you are someday." He peered at her, a cruel smirk appearing on his face, and she imagined herself pulling a gun out of that suitcase and putting a bullet between his eyes in that very moment. But, the reality was that she had nothing but clothes in that suitcase, and he had caught her trying to sneak off._

_"You're goin' to that place again, aren't ya?"_

_"Ed, no…" Her words were cut off by the slap of his hand on her cheek. She stumbled backward, tripping and falling hard over the footlocker at the end of the bed. She hit the back of her head on the sharp corner of the dresser drawer, and she cried out, her hand flying to the back of her head. When she pulled her hand back, her fingers were covered in blood._

_"God damn it, you clumsy idiot," Ed grunted, grabbing her by the wrist and tugging her up roughly. "Look what you made me do. Now they're all gonna look at me at the hospital like I'm the bad guy." He ripped her coat off the hanger in the closet and threw it at her. "Put this on."_

_"I'll be fine. We don't have to go to the hospital," she offered, hoping to God he wouldn't take her, because he'd just punish her worse when they got home. The last thing Ed wanted was another emergency room bill._

_"Oh, no, sweetheart. Wouldn't look took kindly of a man not takin' his wife to the hospital when she hurts herself, would it? He pulled her roughly against him, getting in her face. You really have _got_ to stop pissin' me off, honey."_

Carol slapped a soaking wet shirt up against a rock a few times before she draped it over the makeshift clothesline she'd strung up using rope from the back of the furniture truck. The group had set up camp for a few days in a pretty remote area about thirty miles outside of Atlanta. Rick had taken Michonne, Glenn and Noah out to look for supplies, while most of the rest of the group just sat around trying to keep their wits about them.

Maggie and Tara were perched on top of the truck keeping watch. Carl was playing with Judith, Abraham and Rosita were off doing…well, whatever the hell it was that they did when they went off together. Eugene and Father Gabriel were engaged in a conversation, which didn't surprise Carol. Both men were sort of outcasts in the group. Gabriel was still struggling with the idea of killing walkers, and Eugene was trying to move on from the big reveal that he was just as clueless as the next guy about how to stop this plague that had taken over and left the world almost completely wiped out of living human beings.

Carol had followed Daryl's movements around the camp all morning. They'd been sleeping separately, but the nights were getting colder and longer, and in all honesty, it was getting harder and harder to stay away from him.

Just yesterday, they'd gone hunting together and ended up almost completely giving in to their desires before a deer stumbled into the clearing and refocused their attention. While she knew Daryl was still struggling with everything that had happened in the last couple of weeks, she could tell he was starting to slowly accept what had happened and that nothing could change the past. What happened, happened, and they had to keep moving forward.

She'd lost track of him about ten minutes ago, but when she felt his hand graze her lower back, a shiver went down her spine.

"What're you doin'?"

"Laundry," she laughed. "What's it look like?"

"Here." He reached for one of the soaking garmets.

"You want to do laundry with me?"

"Well, nobody else is steppin' up to offer. You shouldn't have to do this on your own." Carol smiled and handed him one of the items.

"If you insist, but I honestly don't mind."

"This way it gets done faster, and we can go do somethin' else."

"Oh, now that sounds intriguing," Carol said with a sparkle in her eyes." He nudged her shoulder as they worked on the laundry together, and after a few minutes, Carol couldn't help but laugh.

"What's so funny?'

"You. Doing laundry," Carol giggled. "It's cute."

"Cute?" Daryl asked, raising an eyebrow. She slid her hand over his in the water, tangling her fingers with his for a moment. He ran his thumb over her knuckles and leaned in to press a chaste kiss to her cheek. She blushed as he made a more public display of affection than either of them were used to, but inside, her stomach was doing somersaults and her heart was thudding with happiness.

"C'mon," Carol murmured, kissing him briefly on the lips, "let's finish this up. Fast." They worked quickly to finish the work so they could move onto more interesting things.

_ Daryl's uncle Mike was one of the coolest guys he'd ever met. He rode around on a motorcycle with pretty women on the back of them, and he always, always brought something for Daryl when he came by for a visit. Uncle Mike was Daryl's mother' s brother, and when she died, Mike didn't come around much anymore. Really, he had thought it was for the best, since Danny didn't really care to have him around, but he would show up once in a while, toss his helmet at Daryl and take him for a spin on the back of the bike. _

_One morning, when Danny was passed out asleep from a night of heavy drinking, Daryl heard the familiar sound of Mike's motorcycle coming down the street. At twelve years old, Daryl was more into motorcycles now than he'd ever been in his life, and a part of him desperately hoped his uncle would trust him enough to let him take a spin on it alone. He knew it was a long shot, but he could still dream.._

_Daryl quickly pulled his shoes on and rushed outside to meet his uncle, closing the front door behind him, hoping to muffle the sounds so they wouldn't wake his dad and ruin anything. _

_"God almighty," Mike laughed, turning the engine off and pulling his helmet into his lap. "That can't be my favorite nephew. He was at least a foot shorter last time I saw him."_

_"Uncle Mike!" Daryl exclaimed excitedly. Mike opened his arms, waiting for Daryl to give him a big hug, like he normally did, but the boy held back as if afraid of being touched. He noticed what appeared to be a fresh bruise on the boy's jaw as well as one on his upper arm, but he quickly chalked it up to the old saying 'boys will be boys.'_

_"Hey there, Daryl. Where's Merle?"_

_"I dunno. Probably in jail," Daryl said, scuffing his sneaker into the dirt. _

_"Where's your daddy?"_

_"He's passed out. You stayin'?"_

_"Naw, sorry buddy, I'm afraid I can't. I got work in Athens. Gotta get going. Just was passin' through and wanted to stop and see ya."_

_"Can we take a ride on your bike first?" He heard Uncle Mike's deep laugh and wished for a minute that he'd had a dad like him instead. _

_"Sure thing, buddy. I'm tellin' ya, this bike's gonna be yours one day." Daryl beamed as he ran over to hop on taking the helmet in his hands when Mike held it out to him. _

_Five years later, Mike made good on his promise. When he died, he left that bike to his favorite nephew._

"Daryl," Carol laughed, as his fingers grazed over the exposed flesh on her back when he lifted up her shirt. "You're asking for it." She bit her lip as his lips grazed over her collarbone, and she moaned softly, laying back against the soft grass in the clearing they'd discovered near a fresh stream.

Daryl's hands moved up her waist, his thumbs brushing over her breasts, a shock hitting his system when he realized she wasn't wearing a bra. He gave her a look, and she bit her lip, blushing.

"What? It's laundry day." Daryl's mouth watered, and all he wanted to do was take what he could only imagine were the world's most perfect nipples in his mouth and tease them with his tongue. She saw the flash of desire in his eyes, and her core throbbed. "What do you want?"

"Too much," he murmured, kissing her neck again. She sighed softly, her knee coming up so she could hook her leg over his hip. She could feel the stiffness of his erection against her center as he pressed into her, and she gasped, bucking her hips up as her nerves sparked throughout her body.

"Hey," she whispered, stroking his cheek when he pulled back. "I love you."

"Love you," he murmured, kissing her again. He could feel her trembling as his hands worked over her shirt, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, hardening them beneath the fabric. She felt the discomfort between her legs growing with each flick of his finger, and she finally couldn't take it anymore. She pushed back on his shoulders, just a little, and he moved, watching as she leaned forward enough that she could pull her shirt over her head.

She tossed it aside, and she felt her cheeks grow hot at the look in his eyes as he stared down at her bare chest, seeing the fading scars and burn marks from years of abuse, and her shoulders trembled. He leaned down to press a kiss to her bare shoulder, his hand coming up to cup her breast, gently rolling the nipple under his thumb.

"You're the most beautiful thing I ever saw," he murmured, kissing her gently, as the tears filled her eyes, clinging to her lashes. She grasped his shoulders, aching to draw him closer, and he kissed his way down her neck before dipping down to take her nipple between his lips. She gasped, biting a moan into the back of her hand. He teased her other breast with his thumb, as he ran his tongue around the hardened little bud on its twin.

She ran her fingers through his hair, gripping the base of his neck, pushing her chest upward, her head rolling back as she felt his teeth and tongue moving over her sensitive nipples. She was in awe at the way he was so gentle with her, the way his lips moved over the old burn marks from Ed's cigarettes. He seemed to be trying to erase the painful memories with pleasant new ones, and she arched her back against the cool ground, letting him help her make those new memories.

"Daryl," she gasped, as he began to move lower, kissing his way down to her belly, firm and smooth but showing the fainted pale lines she could never erase, nor would she want to. They reminded her every day that she had been someone's mother once.

His hands gripped her hips as he nuzzled her warm, creamy skin, and she thrust her hips involuntarily as his hand caressed her thigh through the fabric of her pants.

"Oh God," she murmured, gasping for breath, her hands tugging at his hair. He looked up at her, and she let go of him, running her fingers up her own chest, over her own breasts, into her own hair, and he thought it was the most gorgeous sight he'd ever witnessed.

His hand moved over her stomach, his fingers playing with the waistband of her pants, and just as he was settling against her to kiss her again, a gunshot rang out, sending them both scrambling to their feet. They stared at each other, the air burning their lungs, and Carol quickly pulled her shirt back on over her head and grabbed her gun.

"What the hell?" Daryl muttered gruffly, grabbing his crossbow. "C'mon. Let's go."


	6. Chapter 6 - Ashes

Chapter 6: Ashes

_Six-year-old Daryl stood on the curb while the other boys around him lined their bikes up ahead of him to watch the stream of water flow from the big, red fire engine to the house trailer. He clutched his favorite toy gun in his hand, his eyes wide in shock as he saw the wisps of debris carried into the air by black smoke. Orange flames curled around the window frames and reached out, as if beckoning him. _

_"Mama," was all he could mutter, his mouth so dry, his tongue so sandpapery that he felt like he could drink an whole lake full of water and it still wouldn't be enough. His eyes went blurry, and he realized when a hot tear trickled down his cheek, that the was crying. _

_"Hey Dixon? Ain't that your place?" one of the older boys asked over his shoulder, moving his handlebars back and forth as the tire skidded loudly across rough gravel. Daryl could only nod in shock._

_He stood there for hours, and nobody came for him. Not even his daddy when he stumbled out of the truck, crying and holding his head and screaming for his wife. He'd stood by and watched long after the fire was out and saw the paramedics wheel the black body bag to the coroner's van. Danny Dixon never went to his son. _

_When the van was gone, Daryl finally walked up to him, and Daniel looked down at him with disgust in his eyes._

_"Where the hell were you?"_

_"Daddy, I—"_

_"You worthless little shit. She was all I had." He spat into the dirt, grabbed his son by the shirt collar and led him to the truck. "Ain't never been good for nothin', Daryl. You won't ever be, either."_

Daryl grabbed Carol's hand, and they tore through the trees and brush as quickly as they could, hearing gunshots going off left and right. When they reached the camp, weapons drawn, Daryl saw a walker going right for Carl. He put an arrow through its head, while Carol took down a walker that had a hold on Maggie's arm.

"Get in the truck!" Abraham called from the driver's seat, popping off a couple more rounds at walkers heading toward the truck. There were too many of them. Daryl rushed toward Carol, reaching out for her hand.

"C'mon! Ain't no way we're makin' it through that crowd." Maggie and Carl had successfully gotten through when there was a momentary part in the sea of walking corpses. Carol tripped over something as she went to Daryl, and when she looked down, it was with a sick feel in the pit of her stomach that she realized it was Eugene, who was gasping for breath, having had a good chunk of his neck bitten out by the walker that was currently ripping into his stomach. He looked up at Carol, pleadingly, and she quickly put a bullet through his head and through the head of the walker that killed him. Daryl grabbed her hand and pulled her back into the trees.

"Come on!" Rick hollered from the passenger's seat. "Get out to the road! We'll come around for you!" Daryl nodded in Rick's direction before leading Carol toward a break in the trees. Carol grimaced as a branch snapped back and scratched her arm, and she could hear the snarls right behind her.

"Daryl, go!" she cried out. Daryl didn't look over his shoulder, but he tightened his grip on Carol's hand, guiding her through the maze of trees and shrubs. The road was about a half-mile ahead, Daryl guessed, and he hoped for their sake and for the rest of the groups that there wasn't another herd of walkers waiting for them when they got back to the road. The last thing any of them needed was to be split up again or to go on some search and rescue mission.

The further they ran, the more steep the land became. The walkers weren't gaining on them anymore, but they kept running, hoping to make it back to the road and find their friends. But Carol lost her footing, and Daryl felt her go down. He stopped, kneeling next to her, seeing her heaving as she clutched fistfuls of grass and leaves in her hands.

"Carol?"

"I'm alright. Just…need a second." She looked up at him, her eyes glittering with tears. "It won't stop. It'll never stop." Daryl peered at her, seeing the way she looked so absolutely defeated now, and he pulled her up, holding her in his arms.

"We keep goin'," he urged. "We don't let them win this, alright?" Carol nodded against his neck, and she winced as she felt a sharp pain in her ankle. "You hurt?"

"I'll be alright. Let's keep going." Daryl stroked her cheek and leaned in to kiss her quickly before hoisting her up in his arms. "Daryl, you can't…I'll slow you down."

"Don't matter. We ain't goin' nowhere without each other." Carol tightened her arms around his shoulders, and she let him carry her down the hill, praying that they'd reunite with their group when they found the road.

_The summer night was hot and sticky where the heavy air clung to your skin like dew. Carol couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned on the little bed in the back of Dale's RV that he'd graciously given up to her. It was a quiet night, and judging by the sounds of crickets and owls hooting off in the distance, the farm was still, and everyone was sleeping._

_Carol sat up, pulling herself out of the bed. She crept through the RV, being careful not to wake up Dale, who was snoring softly on the pullout couch. She gently clicked the latch and left the RV, taking slow, quiet steps away from the little camp Hershel had allowed them to set up on his property._

_She glanced off in the distance where Daryl's tent was set up far off from the others', and she saw the faint flicker of candle light. She shook her head, wondering if he was still having trouble sleeping. She wasn't anymore, thanks to the pills Glenn had brought her from town to help her with her anxiety. She had half a mind to offer some of them to Daryl, but she figured he wouldn't take them. He was too busy beating himself up._

_She made her away across the lot to the far corner where piles of rocks and homemade crosses marked the graves of their loved ones. She found the one grave, where a few Cherokee roses were wilting on the rocks, and she felt fresh tears cling to her eyelashes. She settled down on the cool dirt ground beside the grave, and she placed her hand on the cross._

_"You're not my daughter," she whispered. "When you came out of that barn, I knew my baby died a long time ago." She sniffled. "You're all that's left of her. I know that. But when I think of Sophia, I can't let my last memory of her be…your face." She wiped at her tears. "When I think of Sophia, I think of the moment the doctor put her in my arms, the way she stared up at me before she started crying. I remember her losing her first tooth. I remember the first time she came home with a note from a boy at school. She was my baby girl, and she should still be here." She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. _

_"I couldn't come to the funeral. I couldn't say goodbye to her. I couldn't, because it doesn't make sense. She was happy. She was innocent. I tried to protect her from what I could, even when Ed was rough with her, when he got angry with her. I tried to keep her safe. And in the end, she…" She shook her head again. "It isn't fair." She sat there a few minutes longer, before she got up and started back toward the RV. However, she heard a rustling and moved behind a tree, her heart racing. She froze, wondering if a walker had wandered up, if she should run to the house, if she should just try to fight it off herself._

_But when she peered out from behind the tree, she squinted through the darkness to see Daryl Dixon kneeling on the ground next to the grave they'd made for Sophia. She gasped a little, her hand coming to her mouth when she saw what he placed down on the rocks. A fresh Cherokee Rose. She felt the tears falling now, and her lip trembled. She looked skyward, touched by Daryl's actions. _

_She heard the faintest words fall from his lips. "I'm sorry." He stood and walked away, back toward his tent, and Carol moved back toward Sophia's grave, gently touching the soft petals of the flower with her fingertips._

_"Thank God for you, Daryl Dixon," she whispered, brushing her tears away once again. She turned and padded softly back to the RV, peering over once more at Daryl Dixon's just in time to see the candle light disappear and mask him in darkness once again.._

"You can put me down. I think my ankle's alright," Carol assured him as they stepped out onto the asphalt of the old highway. Daryl put her down, keeping an eye on her as she steadied herself and moved her ankle around, trying to decide if it was worth trying to walk on. She gave him a little nod and adjusted her gun over her shoulder. "This is the right road, right?" Daryl glanced around, noticing a familiar road sign they'd passed on their way to finding a place to camp days before.

"Yeah. Let's sit tight for a minute," he said quietly, glancing down the road both ways, looking for any sign of the truck. "We don't see nobody in ten minutes, we'll start walkin'. Can't be out 'til nightfall. That herd'll find us before then." Carol shivered and pulled her arms around herself. Daryl wrapped an arm around her, and he kissed her temple. She gave him a nervous little smile but curled up against him.

"So we're thinking positive?" she guessed. He shrugged.

"It's all we got," he decided. "They'll find us. They ain't gonna leave us behind."


End file.
